Mama Scammed Us.


My mother tricked us a lot as children growing up, whether it was to get us to do something for her when cajoling and coercing failed, or to take the money visitors and close family members ‘’dashed’’ us. She would tell us she would save the money or open an account for us, needless to say it never came to fruition, the few times we asked her for money from our supposed coffers for things like candies, biscuits and other confectionery she would say ; ‘’ your money is finished oh, I have been using it to cook for you people.‘’ Continue reading “Mama Scammed Us.”


This Lagos Sun Na Die.

I met an old buddy of mine last weekend. She came from Port-Harcourt, to visit some friends and buy some of her wares to sell. The first question she asked me was, ”my paddi, how una dey take manage this Lagos sun? e too hot, see as I done dark finish under three days” I joined her to lament on how scorching the Lagos sun and the accompanying heat can leave someone charred like the roast goats I see at Cele market. Continue reading “This Lagos Sun Na Die.”

Does Sparing The Rod Spoil The Child?

I was at shoprite with my friend, we went there to go buys some booze, we were going about our business when my attention was drawn to this kid, a boy between 9 and 11 years old creating a scene because his mother didn’t get him a toy he wanted I’m not too sure what it was, but the boy was screaming and  beating his mother with the toy. I was so annoyed I just wanted to pass by and quietly and give him a sound “konk” on his head. It also made me thinking about how my mother would have reacted if I DARED to do that. Continue reading “Does Sparing The Rod Spoil The Child?”

Your Pastor Na ”Guy man”

A fellow job hunting buddy invited me to his church a few years ago. We were chatting about job our job hunting experiences and he went on a spiritual tirade, about how the awesome power of God can solve all our problems and how I should visit his church and go to his pastor for counselling and spiritual advice. I was reluctant at first, but he was persistent, he spoke about his pastor with such reverence and adulation. I gave in after I had exhausted all the tactics I employed to dodge the invite. Besides, I rarely attended any other churches that weren’t mine, so I decided to give a shot…actually, I was curious, I was just going there to observe and to see how things are done. Continue reading “Your Pastor Na ”Guy man””

Your Pastor Na ”Guy man” Pt.2

The sermon was good, but his gait and swagger was better. It was like watching an artiste perform. There was a sweating bottle of water, tall glass and a pack of immaculate white handkerchiefs next to a huge bible where he read from. He signaled whenever he wanted some water or another handkerchief and the lady who relocated me earlier rushed to refill the glass, handed it over to him with both hands as she genuflected at the same time. She waited until he finished, repeated the gesture, collected the glass and went back to her seat. This one time, it got too hot I guess because he took off his jacket, held it out and the same lady rushed to get it, he let it go before she got to him, and she got it before it touched the ground. I looked at my friend again, this time he made an effort not to look at my direction. Each time the pastor dropped a punch line or used a big word, the church erupted in ‘’woohoos’’, some stood and waved…yea, I wondered why too. Continue reading “Your Pastor Na ”Guy man” Pt.2″

My Second Police Experience.

The second police experience happened some four years later, I was back home again, in my ‘’hood’’ in ’09. Our transformer ‘’blew’’, the only way to charge our phones was to go to the ‘’barbing saloon’’ at the street corner. Usually we left our phones there in the shop, and we would return later to collect them. In a neighbourhood like mine where ‘’palming’’ was a norm, you may return to meet just the power chord if the ‘’palmist’’ get small joy. On this day, I was in the ‘’barbing saloon’’ charging my phone, the barber was kind enough to entertain us with a martial arts movie, his speakers were blaring, we were all engrossed in the movie aloof of the happenings outside outside his shop. Continue reading “My Second Police Experience.”

Stop Whining! Nobody Owes You Shit!


Sometimes our sense of entitlement in this country is bewildering. The other day after a long day of paid slavery, the following conversation occurred between me and a long time acquaintance. One of those ‘uncu’ I had to rotate my screen at different angles to recognize. This one obviously was unhappy at his Maker and decided to scrape off the first layer of his melanin. I digress, no vex Continue reading “Stop Whining! Nobody Owes You Shit!”

My First Police Experience (Voom Better Pass Statement)


In ’05, I had just got back from Uni, I called my friend to inform him I was around. We used to hang out every day before we got admission into different schools, so we were eager to meet up and trade our stories and experience at our different schools. He stopped by, we hung out, talked and did some catching up until it was time for him to go. I decided to walk him down to my junction so he can board an okada to his house.


Just as we stood at the junction waiting for any available okada to board, pandemonium broke out and people started to run, now this was Port-Harcourt in ’05, when the city was embroiled in cult wars, militancy, kidnappings, and political assassinations and my neighbourhood, Diobu was the melting pot for all these baneful activities.

Continue reading “My First Police Experience (Voom Better Pass Statement)”

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